Wren Griffin: Ace Attorney
by lamiavampire154
Summary: When Wren Griffin started out as an attorney, she would get caught up in the mystery her mentor has been trying to solve for years. And she's beginning to get the feeling that this mystery is the key to her own past...
1. Rise of an Attorney

I jumped awake as I felt something touch my shoulder gently. Shouting in alarm, I sat bolt upright and began struggling wildly. A hand covered my mouth, stifling the sound. "Mm… mmph!" I protested, wrenching at the hand that held me. What was going on?

"Quiet, okay? It's just me! You can stop screaming now."

"Oh, it's you, Mr. Edgeworth," I sighed in relief as he released me. I whirled around, twisting at the waist from where I was sitting on the floor. "What the heck?" I snapped at him. He jumped, his eyes wide in surprise. "Why'd you have to scare me like that?"

"Sometimes, I wonder why I keep you around… your mood swings often become extremely… tedious." Mr. Edgeworth stood up and pinched the bridge of his nose wearily.

I took a moment to get my bearings before answering. I was in the High Prosecutor's – that is, Mr. Edgeworth's – office. I was surrounded by papers, books, case files… you name it. And I knew I'd have to clean it up so as to maintain the upkeep of my mentor's perfectly pristine office.

"What were you _doing_, anyway?" Mr. Edgeworth asked angrily, glaring contemptuously at the loathsome mess I'd left.

"Um… studying up… for the trial. Tomorrow's the third and final day, remember?"

"Yes, but the majority of this… mayhem… has _nothing to do_ with the case and hand!"

"Yes, but," I started, mocking Mr. Edgeworth's disdainful voice, "these cases are all very similar. And they all ended up with a guilty verdict. Maybe we can learn about the future from the past."

"An insightful analysis," Mr. Edgeworth mused, crossing his arms and tapping one finger thoughtfully. I felt myself swell with pride. Then he looked at me with that cold-as-ice, horribly straightforward stare of his. "However!"

"…Eh…?" I mumbled, aghast. I knew full well a lecture was coming. At past midnight, no less!"

"Clutter your mind with unnecessary facts and your statements will become cluttered as well! And you wonder why I haven't given you a case yet!"

"There's nothing wrong with knowing some background!" I argued, but I knew I would lose. I always did. "How can I be a good prosecutor if I don't know guilty from innocent in the courtroom?"

"Well, Wren? Is the suspect guilty?" Mr. Edgeworth asked me suddenly.

I stared at him, confused by the question. How was I supposed to know? "Well… I guess we can't know… for _sure_… until the verdict is passed tomorrow…"

"Wrong!" Mr. Edgeworth glared at me. I felt myself blushing. What had I done wrong now? "The suspect _is_ guilty."

"Wha… H-How do you know?" I asked, surprised and, I had to admit, a little amazed.

"That isn't the question. The suspect is always guilty. Believe it, Wren. Because if you don't, who will? Certainly not the judge, and he's the only one that really matters. So, tomorrow, what will we prove?"

"…That the suspect is guilty…" I mumbled unhappily.

"That's right. And tomorrow, what will you do?"

"You don't mean…?" I asked hopefully. Would I get to help him prosecute tomorrow?

"You've got it. Tomorrow, you're going to _clean this mess up!_ Understood?"

My heart fell in disappointment for about the umpteenth time. "Yes, sir…"

"Good. Now go home and get some sleep. You've got a _long_ day ahead of you tomorrow."

"Okay…" I trudged out of the office. I hated how he treated me like a little child! Okay, sure, I'd gotten started in prosecuting later than him, but come on. We were the same age, and we'd both chosen the same path for the same reasons. That should _mean_ something! At the very least, it should mean that we were equals. But we obviously weren't. Sometimes, I thought as I walked towards my small, cheap car in the underground parking lot, sometimes I feel like I should be parking this hunk of junk in the B parking lot with the visitors, instead. I mean, the only difference between me and them is that I spent more time there, I read more there, and… oh, yeah, I got worked like a dog. A slave dog. And for no better pay. Man, for all the frills in that guy's office, Mr. Edgeworth sure was cheap. But I owed my job to him. More than that, I owed my life to him. It was because of him I was even involved in law at all, and more or less, I was happy with my life. So despite the circumstances, if it weren't for him, I'd probably still be wandering around wondering what to do with my life. So I was indebted to him. It was just… sometimes… I wondered about the people I helped sentence to prison… or worse. After all, they're people too, and I firmly believed, about all else, all people really are innately good at heart.

xxx

I sighed in exhaustion. It had been a long day, but of course Mr. Edgeworth had won again. The suspect was guilty, the witnesses were going home, and we were still here. There was only one reason. And that reason was coming across the courtroom at that very moment.

"I must say, that was quite a show you put on today, Mr. Edgeworth," the man said. He was tall and wore a dark blue suit jacket and a fancy cravat, just like Mr. Edgeworth. He had collar-length blonde hair and a soft-spoken smile. His name was William Dove – he'd been the defense attorney for the case. He was a striking, confident figure, even in defeat.

"Yes, indeed," Mr. Edgeworth agreed as he began to walk away. "Goodbye."

"But the person I'm most interested in is your assistant. What's her name?"

"Wren Griffin," I answered quickly. He turned his gaze on me and I ducked my face away.

"Ah, I see. Wren Griffin." He looked me up and down quickly. I blushed, hiding my face behind my mouse brown hair.

"You wear that suit like an attorney," he went on, examining my dark blue suit jacket and skirt. At a harsh glare from Edgeworth, he amended, "A prosecuting attorney, of course. But your hair and your face…" He smiled at my hairstyle, the way it was loose except for a tight bun at the back, kept up by two hairpins. "Are you from the Republic of Zheng Fa, by any chance?"

"Where?" Edgeworth asked, frowning.

"My mother…" I mumbled. I nodded to him hurriedly. "I'm sorry. I have to go."

"Of course. I understand." As Mr. Edgeworth and I left, I looked back and saw Mr. Dove watching us with his arms crossed, smiling secretly to himself. I shook my head. What an incredibly strange man.

Outside the courthouse, we ran into one of the witnesses for the trial. She was talkative, annoying, and incredibly hard to handle. When we were initially questioning her, it was nearly impossible to get her to stay on task. In short, I disliked her incredibly. Her name was Penny Dreadful, a reporter.

"Hiya, folks!" she greeted us boisterously. "Nice show in there!"

I frowned at her in frustration. She wore a long trench coat and a fedora – according to her, it was standard reporter costume. Her straight brown hair fell down just past her shoulders, and she had a broad smile that even now stretched from ear to ear.

"We don't have time right now, Ms. Dreadful," Mr. Edgeworth snapped. "We're very busy."

"Oh, I know! But look, I was just wondering if I could do a follow-up to the case, and I'd like to interview you!" She whipped out a small pad of paper and a pen. "Go ahead, say something!"

"Like _what?_"

"You know, something interesting. For example…" She cleared her throat and began imitating Mr. Edgeworth's gruff voice. "Ahem. Yes, we worked very hard to achieve justice against that wayward criminal… and we also beat that pasty defense attorney's butt."

"I don't believe I'd ever say something so… unprofessional," Mr. Edgeworth said uncomfortably. "Now, if you'll excuse us…" He and I began walking away very quickly.

"If you want, I could come to your office later to get the inside scoop! We could do a whole segment! 'Miles Edgeworth: Revealed!'"

Mr. Edgeworth groaned and we got inside his car and drove away quickly.

xxx

Edgeworth strolled comfortably into his office the next morning, the way he always did when that sense of confidence and invincibility washed over him. It was the feeling of victory. His office was in perfect order, thanks to Wren. Except for one stray scrap of paper on his desk.

The first thought that occurred to him was, "How dare she leave something lying out! She's such a slob! I can't believe she still works here!" Or something of that nature. His next thought was, naturally, one of curiosity.

Picking up the note, he saw written in painstakingly neat handwriting – unmistakably Wren's – "Prosecutor Wren Griffin is dead." It was signed in her own signature with Edgeworth's best calligraphy pen, a fact which he chose to ignore.

The first thing he thought of was that the note meant, literally, Wren was dead. His heart began to race. Had she been murdered? But where? Obviously not here, but where?

He forced himself to calm down, to think more logically. If Wren had really written this letter, as the neat handwriting and nearly impossible-to-forge signature suggested, then she'd known she was going to die. But this letter wasn't the letter of a dying person. It seemed as though Wren had written this at her own leisure, for heaven's sake! He made himself backtrack to the beginning. Another theory popped into his mind, and this one was more figurative.

Wren was actually a true prosecutor yet; she hadn't even tackled her own case. Nor was she arrogant enough to use a title for herself that wasn't true. She knew what she was; she knew what he treated her as. She was merely his assistant. He understood she didn't think it was fair, but at the same time he knew she understood things wouldn't change until she could prove herself to him. So she obviously wasn't referring to herself as a prosecutor.

Perhaps she was referring to her dreams of becoming a prosecutor.

Meaning, she had quit. Her _dreams _were dead.

Edgeworth felt an inexplicable anger swell up inside of him. He'd known, of course. From the moment he'd seen her, he'd known her heart was in a different place. Inside, she was exactly like someone else he knew, with infinite faith that was almost childish. She could never maintain the role a prosecutor had to play, which was why he had treated her as worthless, had never given her a case of her own. But that didn't change his sudden indignation that bordered on uncontrolled rage. Crumpling the note, he threw it in the trash and stormed out of his office.

xxx

I walked silently and thoughtfully down the sidewalk. I just needed to get outside for a while, to walk and think. For me, thinking worked best when I was moving. I was a pacer, but there was only so much I could handle cooped up inside my tiny apartment. Evening was beginning to turn to night, but that didn't relieve the mugginess that I could practically feel clinging to my skin. It was suffocating, and despite my need to be outside, I found myself longing for air conditioning. But there were other thoughts more strangling, all of them swirling around my mind in a tangled web.

I had never meant for this to happen. By all logic, it _shouldn't_ have happened. Considering my life, I should have hated all criminals with a burning passion. But that last case… Something about Mr. Dove had bothered me. It had almost seemed to me that his client had been innocent. Mr. Dove had had some amazing points, but Mr. Edgeworth had shut him up before he'd even had the chance to make them. Not that I blamed my former mentor; he'd been doing his job after all. But that _smile…_ the way Mr. Dove had smiled at me was like a whole new world. Even though he'd lost, he was still calm and confident. It was something completely different from Mr. Edgeworth.

I shook such thoughts out of my mind. There was room for only one thing now: moving forward from the past. With the bridge burning behind me, there was no turning back. After numerous difficulties, I had finally discovered the career that truly suited me. And that answer lay on the opposite side of the courtroom.


	2. The First Case

I knocked cautiously on the door of the office. I couldn't believe I was here. Here, of all places… wouldn't he hate me? I was sure he would. Still, I had to try.

A voice sounded from within, muffled by the thick door. "Come in." I took a deep breath and stepped in.

I was in Mr. Dove's office, which was entirely different from Mr. Edgeworth's office. Elegantly simple, it was the complete opposite of the prosecutor's stiflingly regal workplace. Much of it was white and tan. Sitting at his large desk, Mr. Dove was a bright splash of color, strategically drawing the eye straight to him. Mr. Edgeworth had always seemed like a part of the décor.

William Dove looked up at me from his desk and smiled. "Good afternoon, Ms. Griffin. What can I do for Mr. Edgeworth today?"

"Good afternoon, Mr. Dove. And I don't think you can do anything for Mr. Edgeworth."

"Then why are you here?" Mr. Dove asked, spreading his arms wide in a questioning gesture.

"Because there _is_ something you can do for _me_."

"Are you in some kind of trouble?" he asked curiously, sitting up a little straighter in his chair.

"In a sense, yes, I am in a bit of a bind." It occurred to me that Mr. Dove might get the wrong idea if I didn't tell him straight out what kind of trouble I was in. "I've come to you for a job," I said quietly.

"What?" he asked, sounding as if he thought he'd heard me wrong.

I steadied myself. If I was going to get this job, I was going to have to prove I was worth it, like I had failed to do with Mr. Edgeworth. I looked at him evenly and calmly and said, "Mr. Dove. I want to work with you."

Mr. Dove studied me critically, frowning intensely. He looked me in the eyes, and like I had never done with Mr. Edgeworth, I met his gaze squarely rather than staring at the ground.

Finally, he started laughing aloud. "There it is, Ms. Griffin! Your true self finally emerges!"

"H-Huh?" I stammered, taken aback. He merely pointed at me, grinning.

"The directness in your gaze! The confidence in your carriage! The fire you were missing when I first met you has finally shown through, Ms. Griffin! Brilliant!" He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms with something that looked like self-satisfaction. "And how does it feel?"

I couldn't help smiling. "Perfect," I replied.

"Great! But I do have a question for you, Ms. Griffin. What made you switch professions so suddenly?"

"I couldn't tell you, sir. I don't quite know myself."

He stared at me as if I'd offended him. "You know, I'm not stupid. I can tell you're lying. But I won't push you, because I sense this goes deeper than the last trial, and anyway, we're not in court."

I nodded. It did go deeper; in fact, it went several years deeper.

He slapped his thighs and stood up. "Well, I'm convinced," he announced. He pulled a piece of paper out of his desk.

"Really? Don't I need an interview?" My interview with Mr. Edgeworth had been like the Spanish Inquisition.

"No need. I told you, Ms. Griffin. You've got the eyes of a lawyer. You've got the skills as well, and I'll give you a _real_ chance to show them. Now, sign right here…"

"Thank you, Mr. Dove!" I blurted.

"You're welcome," he laughed. "Just prove to me you're worth it. I'll let you observe me for a couple trials to get the feel of things, then I'll let _you_ decide if you're ready. And you can call me Will, by the way."

"Then you can call me Wren."

"Hm. Will and Wren, the Defending Duo. Cheesy, but I like it. Well, Wren, I'll see you tomorrow at nine o'clock, sharp!"

"Thanks, Will."

"It's no problem. Just get a good night's sleep, and get ready to work hard!"

"Right!" I smiled and waved goodbye. Things were beginning to look up.

xxx

I showed up at Will's office at nine on the dot as usual, ready to do some work. It was four months and several trials later, and I was really beginning to get into things.

Will was there early that morning. When I walked in, he looked up with a smile. "We've got another case, Wren. We should go to the Detention Center first thing.

I nodded. "Um… sure. Okay."

We arrived at the Detention Center and waited for the suspect in the murder to come into the visiting area. He looked extremely tired; he'd probably been up all night for questioning. He sat down and smiled wearily. "Hiya. You guys're lawyers, right?"

"Yeah, that's right," I answered, looking at the young man. He appeared to be in his early twenties, perhaps a bit younger than myself. He had spiky brown hair and big brown eyes, and wore a bright red and white jacket. He seemed almost a bit familiar.

"I'm William Dove, and this is my partner, Wren Griffin."

The young man's eyes widened. Then he started laughing out loud.

"What's wrong? Didn't you want us here?" I asked worriedly.

"No, it's not that at all!" he laughed, near hysterics. "Wren, look at my face! It's me! It's Jason Day!"

I hesitated, squinting hard at him. Finally, I cried out, "_Jay?_"

He laughed harder. "Same as always, Birdie! Glad you recognize me!"

Will looked confused, glancing from me to Jason and back to me again. "You _know_ him?" he cried incredulously.

"Yes, actually!" I answered. "We were friends when we were in middle school."

He nodded. "Oh. That makes sense."

"Jay, I know I always said one day you'd be behind bars, but what are you doing here? What happened?" I consciously had to remind myself to smile, like Will had told me to.

"It's a long story, Birdie," he said quietly. "Y'see, I was going over to talk with my girlfriend. You know. We'd had a pretty bad fight. I knocked on the door, but she didn't answer. So I let myself in… I have a copy of the key to her apartment. When I opened the door, I smelled blood right away. I walked into her bedroom and…" He broke off, biting his lip. Wren nodded understandingly. "She was still warm… I can't believe it. If I'd just been a few minutes earlier. And this guy walked past the window, and I was just sitting there with my hand on her shoulder…"

"I'm sorry, Jay," I apologized, my smiling façade slipping. "Did you do anything else, though? Touch anything… see anyone?"

He shook his head. "I didn't see anyone leaving. Julie always locks the door, and I'm the only other one who has a key." Something seemed to occur to him. "Gosh, I'm a _real_ idiot!" he cried, holding his face in his hand.

"What? What's wrong?" I asked worriedly, leaning forward.

"Well, when I saw that baseball bat… the murder weapon, I mean… I picked it up by the handle. I mean… that was _Julie's_ blood. I guess I just couldn't believe…" He sighed and shook his head. "I'm in it deep, Birdie. I don't expect Mr. Dove to take my case… I mean, there was a witness. Plus, I've got a key and my dirty fingerprints all over the weapon… I don't see how any lawyer in his right mind could possibly want to take up this case."

"Jay… that's not…" I started.

"Wren, I may still be a college student, but you should know I'm not naïve. I'm just being realistic."

I smiled at him. "We'll get you out of this, Jay. If you're not lying, and I know you aren't, then we'll find a way to win. Okay?"

He smiled at her sadly. "I thought you'd grown up to be at least as realistic as me, Birdie, if not pessimistic. I should have known better. But I trust you. I've learned that much by now, at least."

I grinned. "We'll be back, Jay. You just relax."

He chuckled. "Yeah. I'll do that."

xxx

When we were out of there, I grabbed Will by his cravat. "Let me take this case!" I demanded. "Please!"

"Okay, just back up and give me some space, all right?"

I backed up, blushing. "Oh, right. Sorry."

Will brushed himself off and sighed, smiling. "I knew you'd want to take the case. I have a question, though… why does that boy call you 'Birdie?'"

I shrugged. "He's called me that ever since we were little. I guess it's 'cause my name is a bird. No special reason or anything."

Will laughed. "Well, it sure is a special nickname. Well, then? Come on, it's time to do some serious investigating."

xxx

Will and I arrived at the crime scene and were immediately met by a horde of police officers. However, there was one in particular that charged up to us like a mad bull.

"HEEYY! WREN!" I was suddenly stormed by a livid Detective Gumshoe.

"What's the big idea, pal?" he shouted angrily.

"Huh…?" I stuttered, confused.

"Yeah, you know what I mean! Just up and leavin' like that! I mean, Mr. Edgeworth called me and started yelling his head off about anything and everything! It was _frightening_, pal!"

"What? I… that can't be _my_ fault!" I cried, distinctly remembering Mr. Edgeworth's complete and utter apathy towards me.

Gumshoe drooped, calming down a little. "I dunno, pal. All I know is it was rough on all of us for a while. He was in the worst mood ever! That, and he lost a case to some defense attorney named… Harry Butz, or something."

I frowned. "Harry Butz? Never heard of him. Anyways, it's got to have been something else. You and I and pretty much the entire police department _and_ prosecutor's office all know Mr. Edgeworth didn't give a care about me. That's why I quit."

"Well, okay then… Hey, wait a minute, pal! Are you taking this case?"

"Yes, I am. Why?"

"Oh, _man_!"

"What? What's wrong?"

"Mr. _Edgeworth_ is the prosecutor for this trial! I'm never gonna hear the end of this, pal!"

"What?" I cried in disbelief. _Edgeworth_ was prosecuting? My heart sank. This was my first trial; I didn't have a chance!

"Yeah, but you better watch it! 'Cause you're going down! I don't care if your name's Wren Griffin, we're still gonna lay the smack down on you! This is Mr. Edgeworth we're talking about, after all!"

I crossed my arms. I wasn't about to let this get me. Not after I'd worked so hard. "Okay, well, fine," I snapped. "I don't really care."

Gumshoe scratched the back of his head. "Y'know, pal, you're different now. I dunno really how to put it, but…" he pouted. "Gee, you're almost kinda mean."

I sighed, regretting what I'd said immediately. Gumshoe meant well; he just idolized Edgeworth. None of this was his fault. "Hey, look, I'm sorry, Gumshoe. It's just that my client was… is… a friend of mine. I owe him my life. And if I can't give him mine, I can at least give him his own."

Gumshoe looked away uncomfortably. "All right. I understand."

I decided to change the subject. "So, is there anything you can tell us, Gumshoe? Any information would be helpful."

"Nope, sorry. Everything's strictly confidential at this point."

"Please, Gumshoe?" I pleaded.

"Um… er… okay, fine! But don't tell Mr. Edgeworth."

"Don't worry," I laughed. "I like my life just as much as you like yours!"

"All right, well, I've got a picture here of the victim, Ms. Julie Green."

I looked the picture over. She was a short young woman, probably about twenty, with sparkling hazel eyes and short dark brown hair. Her smile was bright and sincere. She was very cute.

"What can you tell me about her?" I asked.

"She was a real sweet girl," Gumshoe explained, smiling. "Well, everyone who knew her said that, anyways. She was a senior in college, twenty-one years old, and she was majoring in biochemistry. She and her boyfriend… Jason, was it? They were pretty close. Everyone said they were meant for each other." He scratched the back of his head again. Either that was one persistent itch, or it was just a nervous habit. "But if he did that, then maybe not."

"Did that? Did what?" I asked, confused.

"Well, murdered her, of course."

I slumped. "Oh, yeah. Right. I thought there was something else."

"Oh, and before I forget, here's the autopsy."

I took the folder out of his hands and read through it. The basics were pretty simple to understand.

"Julie Green

3:30 P.M. October 2nd

Cause of Death: Blunt force trauma to the head. Death was immediate."

I nodded. "I got it. Thanks. Anything else?"

"Oh, right! The murder weapon! That's the real damning part for your client, besides the fact that he was at the scene! It was a baseball bat, pal! Covered in blood _and_ the suspect's fingerprints!" Gumshoe looked like a gloating child. I didn't exactly want to rain on his parade, so I figured I should probably get going.

"Okay, well, I should be leaving now," I said, beginning to walk away.

"Oh, yeah, and don't even _think_ about talkin' to the witness, or Mr. Edgeworth'll have my hide!"

I laughed. "Okay, okay. Fine." I walked away. Like I wasn't going to talk to the witness!

As soon as we were clear, I turned to Will, smiling smugly. "Come on, Will. Let's go find us a witness."


	3. Locked Doors

As the morning went on, we began walking around the crime scene like we owned the place. I felt all-powerful, and confident that I could find the clues necessary to prove Jason innocent. As we were about to walk into Julie's apartment, something… actually, some_one_ interrupted us.

"Oh!" came a voice. I turned and saw a skinny young man wearing a sleeveless shirt, gym shorts, and long socks with tennis shoes. He also wore a headband, and a towel was draped around his neck. His hair was light brown and he had watery blue eyes. I almost laughed. Who _was_ this guy?

"Are you the lawyers, then?" he asked. "I was told you would be coming. I wasn't to say a word to you."

"What? But…" I started, about to make a perfectly good argument why he should talk to us.

"Sorry," he interrupted, holding up a hand to stop me. "But I think I will have to agree with the man in the pink suit in this instance. Unsophisticated rookies should stick their noses where they belong."

"What?" I cried. I didn't know who to hate more: this jerk, or Edgeworth. Then I thought, just maybe, a snob like him might at least be open to a bragging opportunity.

"Fine, whatever. I won't talk to you about the case. Can I still talk to _you?_"

The young man looked distrusting. "About _what?_"

"Oh, how about you? You know, as a lawyer, I'm used to reading people's eyes. And I can tell you've got quite a brain behind yours. Are you a college student?"

"Yes, indeed I am!" the young man cried proudly. I smiled. In the words of Darth Vader, "All too easy!" He went on, "I go to Miller University! I study public health there!"

So that would explain the exercise-nut outfit.

"Don't the suspect _and_ the victim attend the same school?" Will asked.

"Yes, that's right," the young man answered. Understanding suddenly dawned in his eyes. "Hey, wait! Ohhh, you're good, I'll give you that, but I'll not tell you any more! Forget about it! Besides, I don't have anything to do with this case." He smirked tauntingly. "I was just a passer-by. And that's all you'll get out of me."

I sighed. "Okay, have it your way, then."

As we walked away, Will whispered in my ear, "Jason and that witness go to the same school. I think it's worth our time to take a trip down to the Detention Center and see if Jason has any idea how to loosen that guy's tongue."

"Miller University is a big school," I argued. "Do you really think they'd even know each other's names?"

He shrugged. "Worth a shot. After all, what's my rule?"

I smiled at him. "Try every door," I repeated.

"Even the ones that are locked," he added, nodding proudly. "Now let's go."

xxx

I walked in smiling right off the bat. "Hey, Jason!" I greeted him.

"Hey, Birdie. What's up?"

"I talked to the witness. He said he goes to Miller University. Do you know him?"

"Oh, yeah. His name's Nathaniel Parker, you know, but all the boys call him Nathan 'cause it bugs him. Total health nut, _and _he's got the richest parents in the school. He's a complete psycho, actually. All… self-righteous and crap."

"He said he didn't have anything to do with you or Julia. Is that true?"

Jason laughed. "Don'cha believe it for a second, Birdie! He has more of a connection with Julie than he cares to admit!"

I was a little shocked. "Huh? What do you mean?"

"He's her ex-boyfriend," Jason explained, still laughing a little. "In fact, as hard as it is to believe, he loved her _almost_ as much as he loved himself."

I nodded, beginning to form a theory in my mind. "So, he probably doesn't like you too much, huh?"

"Hey, don't go getting any huge ideas just yet," Jason warned, shaking his head at me. "Nathan's a complete wimp. He can talk the talk all right, but if I _ever_ see him walking the walk, I'll know the apocalypse is here for_ real._" He sighed. "But me and Julie… that was real love. Hey, I'll even let you in on a little secret." He dug a diamond ring out of his pocket. "I graduated this past spring. Julie's a year behind me. I was… I was gonna ask her to marry me." He clutched the engagement ring in his fist. "But that's all over now." He looked at me, tears glistening in his eyes. "She was really an amazing woman. She wanted to be a storm chaser, just like her dad. She took her first photograph of a storm when she was seven years old. She was going to be just like her dad, only so much better. I didn't care if my business major came to nothing; I was going to follow her into every tornado, lightning storm, and natural disaster nature could throw at us. So… So why'd she have to leave before she could even show the world what she could really do?"

"I don't know, Jay." I closed my eyes. Seeing him in pain hurt me so much, and the pain he was talking about was one we both knew too well. It was the pain of losing someone. I tried to make it better, at least a little. "Things are wrenched out of our hands, and it isn't fair. But if all the things you say are true, then this entire case is a lie. And I swear I'm going to unravel that lie if it's the last thing I do."

"Thanks, Birdie," he sniffled. I felt pure, hot anger burning in my chest. I was going to make whoever did this pay.

"Thank _you_, Jay. Everything you've said… it's going to be a big help solving this case, I know it. Starting with unlocking the door Nathan's kept locked up this whole time. I smiled at him, and through the tears welling in his eyes, he smiled back.

xxx

Nathan was still loitering about when I got back. "Nathan," I called angrily, storming up to him. "You lied to me. You _are_ connected to this case."

Nathan was fiddling with his watch. "Hm? Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't hear you. I'm trying to figure out my watch. It's really not doing anything right now, and I got it a week ago!"

"Why don't you just tell me…" I started.

"You know," he interrupted me, "this watch is really amazing. Calories burned, pace counter, distance covered, _and_ the time… if only I could figure out how to make it work!"

"Wren!" Will hissed. "He's not going to say anything unless you take some evidence and rub it in his arrogant face!"

"Right! Okay, Nathaniel Parker! Where do you recognize this face from?" I shoved my picture of Julie right into his snobby nose.

He whipped is face away irritably. "I told you. I don't share any connection with the victim." He smirked triumphantly.

"That's a lie. She was your ex-girlfriend. And you know it."

He looked nervous. He began sweating and wringing the towel that hung around his neck. Then, suddenly, he drooped visibly. "Y-Yeah, you're right. I… I was her ex. I was going to ask her to marry me when we were done with school, but… I guess she didn't want me." He sniffled.

"Interesting," Will mused, stroking his chin thoughtfully.

"Huh? What is it?" I asked quietly, so that Nathan wouldn't hear.

"Well, this just seems like an act. I mean, three seconds ago he was so high and mighty, and now that you're onto him, he's rolling over like a dog."

"Well, his ex-girlfriend just died. That's pretty understandable."

"Still."

"Hm," I grunted thoughtfully, but I pushed the matter aside and turned back to Nathan. "Julie sure did get a lot of marriage requests," I pointed out.

Nathan got that nervous look again. "Wh-What do you mean?"

"Well, you, and then Jason. That's two," I explained, frowning and wondering what he was so anxious about.

"O-Oh…" He looked relieved, although he was still moping. "S-So th-that's what you meant…"

"What can you tell me about what you saw?" I pressed.

He shrugged, still pouting. "There's not much to tell. Jason ad Julie got in a fight. I guess he came back later to finish what he started. I just happened to walk by, and… and…" He whimpered pitifully. "Julie…"

I realized I wasn't getting much more out of Nathan at that moment. My suspicions were raised, to say the least, but there wasn't much I could do about it at that moment. I decided to go look in Julie's apartment. There was a sliding screen door that led right into her bedroom; it was already open, so I let myself into the crime scene.

"Hey, the police are gone already," I noticed.

"They must feel pretty confident about the trial tomorrow," Will said worriedly, stepping in after me and closing the door. It was early October and still warm outside, so it would have been p so Nathan couldn't hear our conversation.

"Yeah, well, let's just take a look around anyways."

We did a thorough inspection of the room, without yielding many results.

"This place is pretty clean," Will observed. "Apparently, everything they found was good for evidence." He shook his head. "It's almost _too_ clean."

"What do you mean?"

"Everything's perfect. It's the dream crime scene. It's short and sweet; there's a single deadly hit to the head, an immediate death, a perfect motive, a decisive witness, and _very_ decisive evidence. There are fingerprints all over the place!"

I sighed. I wished it wasn't as hopeless as Will was making it out to be, but he did have experience. I couldn't help but believe him, even though I didn't want to. Suddenly, something cautght my eye. "What's this?" I wondered aloud, picking something glittering from the trash can by the bed. I gasped. A diamond ring.

"Well, that's not something you normally see in the trash," Will said curiously, walking over to stand beside me.

I examined it carefully. For one thing, it was absolutely huge. "This is strange. It looks like an engagement ring. But what would it be doing in the trash? And who's it from? Jason still has his."

"Maybe we should take this along."

"What? But…"

"It's better to be a trash-picker than to be missing potential evidence."

"Okay, fine." I hastily shoved the ring into my pocket. "Now let's look around one more time…"

"Griffin!" a familiar voice shouted from behind me. I jumped and whirled around. It was Edgeworth, and he was _mad!_

"Isn't it past your bedtime, Griffin?" he snapped.

"Watch it, Edgeworth! You might have forgotten, but we're the same age!"

"Perhaps your unsophisticated mentor failed to tell you this, Griffin, but as a defense attorney, you don't have the same privileges as you did with me. And that includes snooping around at a crime scene!"

My heart began to pound. I wondered if he'd spotted the diamond ring.

"Besides," he went on confidently, "my team has already gathered everything of importance. _All_ evidence is now under my possession."

I had to try hard not to show my relief. He hadn't seen anything, thank goodness.

"Hey! Are you going to _say_ anything, or are you going to stand there gawking?"

"Yes. I _do_ have something to say, Edgeworth." I glared up at him with all the determination and strength I could muster. "See you in court."

He glowered at me in indignation. "Watch your tongue," he commanded.

"No. I won't. You're not in charge of me anymore, and what's more, I'm not the _girl_ you thought I was." I began to stomp away from him, then turned back and added, "In fact, I never was." I left him behind, feeling both outraged and ecstatic. This was the first time I'd felt completely free from Edgeworth. And I _wasn't_ looking back – not then, and not ever.


	4. Battling a Rival

I stood in the Defendant's Lobby, trying to psych myself up. It was hard, though. I was so nervous I couldn't even look at the courtroom doors without feeling weak. Worst of all, Will wasn't here yet. I tried to pretend I would do fine without him.

"Okay, here we go. First trial. I can do this!"

"Please don't talk to yourself, Birdie. If I find out I got myself an insane lawyer, I'll just plead guilty and get it over with quicker."

"Oh! Right, sorry!" I turned to Jason, smiling tightly. "I'm fine! Oh, and by the way, Jay… If you can manage to not call me 'Birdie,' in court, that'd be great. It's kind of my first time, and I don't need everyone in the room to know my nickname."

"Are you saying it's embarrassing?" Jason asked despondently.

"No, no!" I cried, waving my hands back and forth to reassure him. "It's not! Just… try not to use it for today, all right?"

"I'll try," Jason agreed, but he didn't sound too happy about it. I couldn't blame him, actually. Maybe he'd really missed me, after all those years. I could think of a few kids I'd known as a kid that I missed a lot. When I thought about it, Jason was one of them.

"Um, hey… Wren?" Jason asked. "You know that guy?"

I whirled around and saw Edgeworth striding towards me. "Griffin," he growled, "I hope you're ready. Because I'm not going easy on you."

"Neither am I!" I shouted. Edgeworth winced a little, then recovered by shrugging disdainfully and walking back out the door. I sighed. This wasn't going to be fun.

"Sorry I'm late, everyone!" someone else called from the door. I jumped. "Will!" I cried. "Thank God you came!"

"I wouldn't leave you all alone on your first trial," he said. "That just wouldn't be fair."

"You bet it wouldn't! I was _dying_!"

"Well, good thing I came. Looks like the trial's about to start… we'd better get in there. Good luck, Wren!"

xxx

I stood in the courtroom with everyone around me chattering up a storm. I wished they would be quiet; it was really getting on my already stretched-thin nerves. And Edgeworth glaring at me from across the courtroom didn't help either. Finally, the judge slammed his gavel and the room fell perfectly silent.

"The court will now convene for the trial of Mr. Jason Day."

"The prosecution is ready, Your Honor," Edgeworth stated calmly.

I took a deep breath to calm myself. I caught Edgeworth looking at me smugly and instead of repeating the words I'd been taught casually like Edgeworth had, I shouted instead, "Th… The defense was born ready, Your Honor!"

"Um… right," the judge stammered, blinking in surprise. "The prosecutions opening statement, please."

"…Cases like these are what destroy rookie lawyers. You'll find that this one will be crying 'the defense rests' in less than… fifteen minutes."

I gritted my teeth. _What?_

"Um… very well," the judge said, nodding. "Mr. Edgeworth, please call your first witness."

"The prosecution calls to the stand Detective Dick Gumshoe, the chief officer at the scene."

Gumshoe took the stand, standing there with his normal, slightly confused look.

"Witness, please state your name and occupation."

"Sir, yes, sir! I'm Dick Gumshoe, sir! I'm the detective in charge of homicide down at the precinct, sir!" Gumshoe cried enthusiastically.

"Detective. Please describe the details of the murder," Edgeworth continued. "If the defense is ready for her cross examination?"

"Yes… _are_ you ready, Ms. Griffin?" the judge asked.

I couldn't speak. My heart was pounding, and my entire body was trembling. What was worse, Edgeworth and the judge were _already_ ganging up on me.

"You're ready for this, Wren," Will whispered in my ear.

"…Yes, Your Honor…" I mumbled quietly.

Will and Edgeworth both cocked identical eyebrows at me. I blushed.

"What was that? I didn't quite catch…" the Judge started.

"YES, YOUR HONOR!" I interrupted loudly.

"Wren, there's no need to shout," Will sighed as everyone, including Edgeworth, winced.

"Um… very well, then. Ms. Griffin," the judge stammered. "Are you sure you're up to this? And please don't yell this time!"

I hesitated, then nodded. "Absolutely positive, Your Honor. I apologize for my… outburst."

"Apology accepted. Please continue."

**Detective Gumshoe's Testimony**

**What Happened**

"The victim, Julie Green, was in her room, right next to her bed." Gumshoe indicated the map, which showed a bed in the right top corner of the room. There was a wall behind it, and the screen door occupied the top left corner. The door to the rest of the apartment was in the bottom left corner. "The suspect had entered through the front door using his own key."

"Hold it!" I shouted. I was nervous and excited at the same time. I'd never asked any questions in court before, and I was just scared to death I'd screw it up somehow. "How do you know the defendant had his own key?"

"Well, it was found on him when we searched him, of course!" Gumshoe answered, as if it was obvious.

In that moment, I just wanted to sink through the floor. "Oh. R-right. Of course."

"Eyewitnesses claim they began arguing. At this time the defendant would have been here," Gumshoe pointed to a spot between the bed and the main door, "across from the victim, who was still at her bed. He shoved her and she fell down onto the bed. In a passion of rage, he picked up the victim's baseball bat and… wham! He hit her on the back of the head. Then it was all over."

"Well… anything, Wren?" Will asked. "If you were paying attention, you should have noticed it."

I bit my lip. I was still dwelling on my last mistake, and Will could probably tell. What if that mistake had cost me the case? What if the judge thought I was incompetent and wouldn't rule in my favor?

"Wren," Will said firmly. "You can't live in the past. Even if you make a mistake, if you keep thinking about it, you will definitely be too nervous to do well later. So focus on what's happening _right now_. What did the witness say? Was there something wrong with it? What evidence does it contradict? _That's_ what you have to be thinking about."

I nodded. "Okay. I understand. There was… one thing that I thought was strange."

"Go ahead and present it then!"

"Okay, right. Objection!" I shouted.

"What is it, Ms. Griffin?" the judge asked.

"Your Honor… I have here a diamond ring. It was given to me by the defendant."

"Your personal love life is of no interest to this courtroom, Griffin," Edgeworth stated calmly, but I could just tell he wanted to see how many times he could poke the sleeping bear, so to speak.

"What? N-no, that's not… The defendant, Jason Day, was planning on giving this to the victim… on the day of the murder!"

"Urk!" Edgeworth groaned. He looked as though he was going to have a heart attack.

"There's only one question that comes to my mind when considering this piece of evidence… why would anyone commit murder… on the day they are to become engaged?"

"Objection!" Edgeworth cried. "But maybe she refused!"

"Objection! According to this testimony, the two immediately began arguing!"

"Objection! The defendant is very easy to read! And if the two of them knew each other well enough to consider marriage, as you claim… then the victim could have seen the question coming and refused before Mr. Day could even get on his knees! Therefore… your argument carries absolutely no weight at all!"

"_What?_" I cried in disbelief.

"Relax, Wren," Will said soothingly.

"But he totally pulled that out of the air! And even though he's bluffing, I can't even disprove it!"

The judge shook his head. "Whether or not the prosecution can pull arguments out of thin air, I'm afraid he has a point. Ms. Griffin, if you cannot come up with a more convincing contradiction, I will be forced to end this cross-examination!"

"Uh-oh!" I muttered to myself. "Now what?"

"Wren. Focus," Will reminded me.

"What? But Will… there's no way there's a contradiction in that testimony!"

"There's a locked door in every testimony, Wren. Even this one. Think about the facts. Do that, and I think you'll realize… _there's something that's impossible_ in this testimony."

"Impossible? Wait… there is one thing… maybe…"

"Don't doubt yourself, Wren. You're smarter than you think. Once you've got a lead, latch onto it… and don't let go!

"If the defense is finished, then…" Edgeworth started.

"Hold it!" I interrupted urgently.

"What? Again?" he cried, annoyance written all over his face.

"Witness," I continued, ignoring him. "Let's go over this again, shall we? The victim, Ms. Green, was pushed back onto her bed, correct?"

Gumshoe nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah! Right!"

"And this happened while she was facing her attacker?"

"Of course! Who turns their back on their attacker?"

"Right. And then, she was hit on the back of the head."

"Yep. That's how it went down."

"But you see… that's impossible." I crossed my arms and smiled.

"Wh-Whaat?" Gumshoe cried. "Whaddaya mean, pal?"

"Because… had Ms. Green truly been facing her attacker… the back of her head would _not _have been open for attack!"

"Wh… AAH!" Edgeworth shouted. I began to worry that he might just keel over and die over there.

The courtroom exploded in a commotion of surprise.

"Order! Order! ORDERR!" the Judge commanded, slamming his gavel. "Mr. Edgeworth, the defense raises an excellent point! What do you have to say about this obvious hole in logic?"

Edgworth shrugged. "Obviously, the victim turned her back on her attacker." He slammed his desk a little overdramatically. "That is the only option available!"

"But why would anyone turn their back on an assault?" the judge questioned.

"I would like the witness to testify to that effect, Your Honor." Edgeworth bowed theatrically. "Then all will be made clear."

"Very well. Witness, please testify as to why the victim would turn away from a direct assault!"

**Detective Gumshoe's Testimony**

**Turn Your Back**

"The victim was struck on the back of the head, right? Well then, she must have see that she was about to be attacked. Then she tried to run away. That's when it happened!"

_That's it?_ "Objection!" I shouted. I didn't know what else to say; I just hoped I could bluff my way through it. "Detective. Let's have a look at the map again, shall we? If Ms. Green had tried to run away… she would have run straight into her bed! And even if she'd been planning on jumping over it… Well, as you can see, then there would be a wall in her way!"

"Ohhhhh!" Gumshoe exclaimed.

"Fine!" Edgeworth yelled. "If what you're proposing is that escape was truly an impossibility, what, then, is your theory?"

"Well, if the victim had turned her back on the murderer, then the only reason would be that she presumed him not to be a threat!"

"But Ms. Green and Mr. Day had had an argument earlier that day! There's no way she wouldn't assume there may be violence!" the judge shouted.

I slammed my desk. "Exactly, Your Honor. Which is why the murderer _couldn't have been _Mr. Day! It would have had to be someone Ms. Green knew… and assumed to be non-violent!"

Everyone in the court room began talking at once.

"Or-Order! Order!" the judge demanded. "Mr. Edgeworth, how can you explain _this?_"

Edgeworth had one hand on his desk, glaring at me in disbelief. My first successful objection… it felt so good! "It appears…" he admitted slowly, "as though I will need a bit more time defeating you, Griffin. I can get no more information out of this particular witness, Your Honor."

The judge nodded. "Very well. You may call your next witness."

Edgeworth shrugged as if the whole thing was of no consequence to him. "The prosecution calls to the stand a young man who walked by at the exact moment of the murder!"

This is it, I thought. Nathaniel Parker… what secrets are you hiding behind your door?


End file.
